


Set

by raven_aorla



Series: Sheaths and Safeties [4]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Female Character of Color, Hindu Character, Meet-Cute, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-31 12:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12681975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_aorla/pseuds/raven_aorla
Summary: A respected mob doctor might end up treating a Zsaszette at some point. That wasn't the part that surprised her.[Can be read independently.]





	Set

**Author's Note:**

> Unlike, say, the writers of Supernatural, I am well aware that Kali the goddess is a living deity to many people, not some long-ago myth. I am not myself Hindu. I do not intend any disrespect by my portrayal of Kelly "Kali" Lahiri's personal beliefs when it comes to deities who are worshipped in many aspects and manners. If it turns out I have been disrespectful in some way, please let me know so I can fix it.

_“You and that Mooney bitch are the reason I’m here in the first place!”_

Dr. Kelly “Kali” Lahiri paused in telling her current patient how to tend to her sprained wrist so it would heal as fast as possible. “Just a moment.” 

“Are they from different gangs?” the woman asked, looking at the closed door of Kali’s office as if she could see through it to the potential scuffle in the waiting room. She hadn’t provided a name or want to share how she sprained it. Kali didn’t demand such information unless truly necessary. Kali had her down as Sprained Wrist Nose Pierced Woman for her own notes, just in case she came back.

“Probably.” Kali went to the back door, opened it, and called out, “Wu, put your lunch down and break things up for me, please?”

Kali didn’t have the money to employ a nurse and didn’t really need one. Annie Wu was her security, who’d gotten Red Cross first aid certification at Kali’s behest. She was willing to work for cheap in exchange for Kali using her correct pronouns and not batting an eye at Wu’s fondness for bright coral lipstick. Kali personally thought a more peachy shade would suit her complexion better, but whatever. 

Wu tucked her chopsticks back into the to-go box and brought it in with her. She placed it on the edge of Kali’s desk, next to the picture of Kali’s parents and older brother, all of whom had moved back to Bengal six years ago and so were out of any Gothamite’s reach. Kali was the only American-born. 

There was a line on the floor made of masking tape. One side, the side near the door, had the tiny bathroom, Kali’s desk and chair, the filing cabinet where she kept patient records, and Ye Olde Chest of Biohazards. On the other side of the line was the examination table and all the supplies that needed to be clean, along with an additional sink she’d had installed for washing her hands before minor surgery. 

“Hi there,” Wu said in passing, waving at the current patient, before going into the other room and sorting things. Kali couldn’t hear what she said or did, but all went quiet. When it was time for the woman to leave, Wu made sure she left the place without any trouble from the people in the waiting room.

“Number six,” Kali said, beckoning.

A third man, a young jock of a guy, rose from his chair and flashed a badge. “GCPD. I need to ask you a few questions.”

She smiled politely. “Then take a number, and note my sign forbidding harassing or assaulting others in this clinic.”

He pointed at his badge more emphatically. “I said GCPD.”

Kali’s smile hardened. “Are you in active pursuit of someone, Detective? Do you have a court order or warrant? No? Then take a number. Nobody gets to skip the line unless they’re barely short of me needing to call them an ambulance. I will be with you after I see numbers six and seven. Help yourself to a drink from the water cooler if you like, and as the sign says, Ms. Wu can give you the key to the bathroom on request.”

Wu loomed protectively from next to the potted ferns she cared for like they were her children. She used to work as a bouncer, and looked it. Six and Seven looked casually mutinous. Kali herself had built up a reputation not to be sneezed at. The cop scoffed, rolled his eyes, and sat down.

Six was following up on the emergency appendectomy she’d performed on him three weeks ago. It was healing reasonably well, though she cautioned him against overexertion.

Seven lowered the copy of _Popular Science_ he was reading - Kali only stocked the waiting room with peaceful fare - and glared at the other patient as he was leaving. Six flipped him off. The cop was engrossed in _Sports Illustrated._ His lips were moving as he read and he didn’t notice anything going on around him. 

Seven’s shoulder graze was simple, but the cheaper back-alley sawbones he’d gone to first had screwed up the stitches to the point where Kali had to cut them and start over. 

“Number eight?”

Once they were in private, the cop who introduced himself as Officer Dougherty held up a composite sketch. “Have you seen this woman?”

As it happened, she hadn’t, but she said, “I don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

“I played nice just now, ma’am.”

She raised an eyebrow. “It’s _Doctor._ ” 

Dougherty’s manners degenerated quickly. About the third threat/insult in, Kali crossed her arms and spoke as if to an unruly teenager. “Did you know that combat medics still have to go through basic training, same as our soldiers?” _That’s your warning._

“You’re under arrest for obstruction of justice,” Dougherty sneered, reaching for his cuffs as if his excuse was legitimate and not just bullying. Kali thought about the best way to subdue him without giving him a concussion or worse. She had enough people in her debt that the fallout could be smoothed over...

Then the door cracked open, and a man with a reputation everyone in Gotham’s underworld knew said, “Hi, is there a problem? One of my girls just broke her leg, and I’m not handling the wait very well.” He gave Dougherty a significant look. 

To save his pride, Dougherty pretended he’d gotten an urgent summons back to the precinct. Zsasz carried his assistant in, refusing Wu’s help. The woman was fairly short. Her black hair was piled high, one eyebrow removed or at least very faint, and the other one emphasized with makeup. Her lipstick was a vivid crimson and she was dressed in the sort of strappy leathery black outfit Kali sometimes dreamed of a hypothetical partner wearing.

Kali flipped up the backrest on the table so the patient could sit up, and Zsasz carefully laid her onto it. “Do you want me to stay?”

“Go call Jane."

“I’ll take it from here,” Kali reassured him. He nodded, tight-lipped, and kissed the Zsaszette’s hand. He was composed on his way out, but Kali noticed him twisting one of his rings back and forth. 

“Do you want to give me your name?” Kali asked. “It’s optional.”

If Kali looked carefully, she could see the woman was sweating and rigid with the effort of being so stoic. Her words were precisely chosen to seem like almost like natural speech. “Yoona Bae. It’s a simple fracture below the knee. Jumped from high up and landed wrong. Was able to walk on it, but Victor went mother hen when we finished the job and he found out why I barely dodged a knife thrust right after the jump.”

Setting a broken bone was no fun for the patient, though for Kali by this point it was a cakewalk. She gave her a local anesthetic and fetched her some water while waiting for it to take effect. Yoona didn’t say much, but she relaxed enough to seem more of a person than a robot when the drugs kicked in. Kali found herself babbling all sorts of inanities about current events, books she hadn’t gotten around to reading, the best bulletproof vests on the market, and the degree to which handmade gifts were overrated. Completely unlike her usual demeanor. She didn’t know what was wrong with her.

Eventually, Yoona held up a hand and gave her a faint smile. “Tell me over a drink.”

Kali didn’t know what to say. Most people she could easily boss around, but fiercely gorgeous women? That was hard. “Huh?”

“Ever been to Stiletto? Female career criminals and women they vouch for only. Buy me a drink there.”

“Never been. Um, so you and Zsasz aren’t together?”

Yoona waved one hand dismissively. “Nah. We play sometimes. Outside of that, he’s fond of all of us. Protective. That’s the sum of it.” 

“Let’s get you on crutches first,” Kali said, not meeting Yoona’s eyes. She found herself hoping she was guessing right on what kind of role Yoona liked to play, as if that weren’t getting way ahead of herself. Kali’s forays into finding and showing women appreciation for beating her up in the exact right way had been hit-or-miss so far. Pun intended.

“That’s a yes,” she said with calm confidence.

“...Yes.”

“Victor’s been trying to set me up with someone. Sweet but tiresome.” Yoona winced. Local anesthetics weren’t perfect. 

Gentling her touch as best she could, Kali imagined the notorious Victor Zsasz as an over-enthusiastic wingman. She had to stop imagining for fear of suppressed laughter making her hands shake. “I take Mondays and Tuesdays off.” 

Tuesday was sacred to warrior goddess/protective universal mother Kali. Monday was sacred to Lord Shiva, the god of destruction who once calmed Kali’s bloodlust through a humble show of vulnerability, and his counterpart Durga, herself a warrior goddess who called upon Kali when overwhelmed in battle. Kali made offerings on those days, and otherwise did chores, exercised, and rested. The gaping wound that was Gotham, one she could never suture, was too obvious when she went out and tried to have any sort of life.

Maybe if she wasn’t alone when she went out, it would be different.

“I saw you once, on your own. Working.” Kali almost said she’d been sitting on her balcony and watching from above, but that might give too much away. Through binoculars, she’d determined afterwards that nobody but the man Yoona had been after had suffered any harm, and that man was beyond anybody’s help.

“What’d you think?” Was that a flirty tone to her voice?”

 _I thought way too much about it for days. How you moved._ “Very efficient. No bystander casualties; I appreciate that about your group.”

“You would have run down there and fixed up everyone if there had been, wouldn’t you?”

“I would have tried.”

“But you wouldn’t have called the cops?”

Kali was aware how odd this combination sounded to most people. “I take the whole ‘noncombatant except when defending myself or my patients’ concept seriously, Ms. Bae. And I don’t think governments are the real authority on what constitutes a war.”

“It’s Yoona, c’mon.” She reached over and patted Kali’s shoulder. “That’s genuinely the sweetest thing. I was probably doing a side project. Victor doesn’t need us for every job. You’re doing really well, by the way. We might become regulars. The whole crew. Our previous mob doctor got fresh. He’s not so fresh anymore.”

“Is he dead?” Kali wanted to be able to warn others about him if he was still practicing.

Yoona shook her head emphatically. “We don’t kill for free. He’s not an issue, though. Alive is a very broad category. Could you make the splint or cast black, somehow? I have an image to maintain.”

Kali laughed out loud. “I’ll see what I can do.”

**Author's Note:**

> Annie Wu is also mentioned in my fic "Inches and Miles", set about 3 years later. Mayoral Chief of Staff Edward Nygma sorts out her birth certificate for her in exchange for a very big favor.


End file.
